


Antifreeze

by Cherry101



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Heavy Angst, M/M, Moving On, you can blame stardust for this one guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 20:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry101/pseuds/Cherry101
Summary: “This program is unlike Mila’s programs in the past. She usually stays away from classical music.”“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard her recent interview. According to her, Allegro Appassionato had been Yuri Plisetsky’s free skate. Mila said that she chose to use his music as tribute to him.”“And isn’t that so touching? Babicheva is not the only one choosing to honor the late Yuri Plisetsky in this Grand Prix event. It seems as though plenty of skaters are dedicating routines to him.”~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`The extended ending of 'this is not like home' from Frostbite(second chapter) by StardustCoeur(SolivagantSleepyhead), but could be read as a standalone





	Antifreeze

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StardustCoeur (SolivagantSleepyhead)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolivagantSleepyhead/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Frostbite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035791) by [StardustCoeur (SolivagantSleepyhead)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolivagantSleepyhead/pseuds/StardustCoeur). 



> Hahaha... this was born out of a conversation between Stardust and I. Blame them, not me. lol. Enjoy!

Mila gives it her all, and, sometimes, it isn’t enough. 

 

She throws herself into her skating. What else can she do? It’s a good thing the season still hasn’t really picked up yet, because one of the first things she does when she manages to piece together broken pieces of her heart is contact Lilia. 

 

_ “I want to use Allegro Appassionato as my free skate.” _ She had told the woman, standing in front of her while tapping her foot impatiently. It’s a nervous habit, one she means to break but can’t quite find it in her. 

 

Lilia had glanced over her, weary eyes blinking, before she had nodded in acceptance. 

 

The program is difficult, even with lower jumps. It’s fast paced, with far too many ballet elements than Mila would like, but she struggles through it. She has to. In a way, the program keeps her sane, keeps her from going overboard. 

 

Kind of like what Viktor’s doing, really. 

 

Although he has the most reason to be driven insane. 

 

The rink is far too quiet now. 

 

Yakov doesn’t yell. He’ll grumble, occasionally let anger into his voice, but he doesn’t yell. He doesn’t have to. After all, Georgi gets a lot quieter himself, not nearly as dramatic as he had been, and Mila… 

 

She tries not to think about it. 

 

Viktor never formally announced his retirement, but it’s heavily implied. He never shows up at the rink. In fact, Mila’s pretty sure he never leaves his apartment. Not when Yakov asked him for help, not when Yuuri left for Japan, not when the season started and the press was hounding him for answers. 

 

She goes to visit him, one day. It’s nearing the end of the first half of the season, the Grand Prix Final only a week away. Mila’s already made it into the event, although she wishes she weren’t going alone. 

 

“Viktor.” She knocks on the door for a solid three minutes, after the elder man bluntly ignored her first knock, “Open the damn door. I know you’re in there.” 

 

Finally, he does. The man’s hair is messy, his skin is pale and gaunt, his eyes dull. How he’s survived this long without taking care of himself, Mila has no idea, but it’s obviously a problem. 

 

_ Yuuri shouldn’t have left you, Viktor.  _

 

She doesn’t voice this thought, instead pushing past the man to enter the apartment, and what a sight the building is. Everything is clean, immaculately so, but lifeless, as though nobody’s lived here in years. Even now, she spots little reminders of what could have been, found in the bareness of the opened guest bedroom, the quietness of the apartment. It’s unnatural, because Viktor’s loud. He’s always loud. 

 

Except now. 

 

“Do you want something?” Viktor asks in a small voice, from behind her. Mila turns around, taking another look at the still grieving man. 

 

“It’s been quiet,” Is all the answer she can provide at the moment, scanning him for traces of a response, but there’s nothing. No anger, no sadness, no frustration, no expression at all. If anything, his shoulders seem to slump, his body curling in on itself even more. 

 

“I like the quiet.” Viktor sits down on the couch, having crossed the room in the time it takes for Mila to assess him. 

 

“You’ve never liked the quiet.” 

 

“I do now.” 

 

There are so many things Mila wants to say to him, but she can’t find the right words. Yelling won’t cut it, being harsh will only lead to breaking the man even more, and being soft will make him think he’s weak. She knows how men work. 

 

So, she speaks with a soft voice, asking, “Did you watch my programs?”

 

She doesn’t have to hear his answer - his expression is enough of one. Of course he hasn’t - he probably hasn’t touched a single skating-related thing since  _ that day.  _

 

“I’m sorry.” Viktor says quietly, his head dipping as though to hide his facial expression from her. 

 

“It’s alright.” Mila turns as though she’s going to leave. She isn’t, she still hasn’t said what she needs to, but perhaps the illusion will help, “I dedicated my free skate to him, you know.” 

 

She can quite literally feel Viktor freeze, from behind her. He hadn’t been expecting her to bring up what is still such a touchy subject, but she has to. She has to, because Viktor is here, suffering alone in his grief, while Yuuri’s in Japan, surrounded by people that can help him. Yuuri has his family, but Viktor has nobody, or, at least, nobody else he will listen to. 

 

“I didn’t know that.” 

 

Mila snorts, “Of course you didn’t. You’ve been locked up in here, surviving off of who-knows-what, wallowing in your grief.” 

 

She turns to look at Viktor again, and, predictably, he’s angry - finally, there is some emotion on his face other than that blank look of pure sorrow. His eyes flash dangerously. 

 

“I get it, you know,” She starts, once it’s clear that the man isn’t going to refute her statement, “I understand where you’re coming from, but listen here. We’re all guilty. It’s not just your fault. Every single one of us is to blame. But, do… do you see me sitting around at home? Do you see me letting my guilt mix with my grief and drowning in the mixture?” Her voice raises as she continues, growing more and more intense. “You’re not the only one suffering. You haven’t… you haven’t been to the rink. Yakov doesn’t shout. Lilia, when she comes, isn’t stiff, or uptight. Both of them, they’re… they’re lost, in a sense. Georgi doesn’t go on about his lovers anymore. He doesn’t think he has the right to be so dramatic about so silly a thing. And me?” 

 

Mila laughs, then. It’s a bitter, hollow laugh, and she almost doesn’t want to see Viktor’s reaction to her outburst. 

 

“Me? Some days, I feel okay. I work on my short program, work on my jumps. And then others, the days I work on my free skate, when I’m dancing to the music he was going to use using his choreography… those are the days it all comes back at me. And it hurts, Viktor. It hurts a lot. But I grit my teeth, and I get through it. I’m not forgetting him, but maybe one day, I’ll be able to move on, and not think of him with pain.”

 

“Are you done?” Viktor asks when she takes a breath at the end of her last sentence, his voice still quiet. 

 

“No. No, I’m not. You need to reach back out to Yuuri Katsuki, because he may be the only one that can help you right now. In fact, he is the only one that can help you, and you just… you just let him go to Japan without you. Actually, Japan may be good for you. Less memories, there, and you’ll be with people you actually seem to care about.” 

 

“Mila, you’re rambling.” 

 

Mila pauses, taking a deep breath and running fingers through her hair. Okay, maybe she had been rambling, just a tad bit. Oh well. “I… just think about that, Viktor. Please.”

 

For a split second, Viktor’s eyes meet her own, and, for the first time since  _ that day _ , there is a hint of life in them. Not much, but a spark is enough. 

 

“I will.” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“On the ice, representing Russia, Mila Babicheva. She will be skating to Allegro Appassionato in B minor.” 

 

“This program is unlike Mila’s programs in the past. She usually stays away from classical music.”

 

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard her recent interview. According to her, Allegro Appassionato had been Yuri Plisetsky’s free skate. Mila said that she chose to use his music as tribute to him.” 

 

“And isn’t that so touching? Babicheva is not the only one choosing to honor the late Yuri Plisetsky in this Grand Prix event. It seems as though plenty of skaters are dedicating routines to him.”

 

“His passing was tragic, though. It makes sense. Even now, nobody knows how he died, just that it shook the entire skating community.”

 

“Rumors are even saying that he was the reason why Viktor Nikiforov retired.” 

 

“Well, they had been rinkmates for quite a time.” 

 

“And what about Otabek Altin’s exhibition?” 

 

“The one he performed at Trophee de France?”

 

“Didn’t he say that was a tribute to Yuri as well?” 

 

“Yes, I believe he did. I think, even in the midst of such tragedy, it’s nice seeing the skating community rally together.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Hiroko is the only one in the lobby when Viktor walks in, exhausted from the flight. It’s unusual, because normally, the inn is bursting with people, constantly busy. 

 

“Vicchan,” She greets, and Viktor offers her a tired smile. 

 

“Is Yuuri here?” 

 

Hiroko almost looks weary, and she nods, still smiling softly, “He’s up in his room. You may go see him, if you’d like.” Her English is heavily accented, all clipped consonants and elongated vowels, and she almost sounds disapproving. Almost. She also sounds apologetic, and Viktor’s…

 

He’s sick and tired of hearing apologies, of hearing condolences. 

 

At this point, he really wants to forget, but… 

 

_ I can’t do that. I can’t forget.  _

 

It’s the same mindset that sent Yuuri off to Japan, that left Mila forced to come yell at him when she’s still obviously in grief. A mindset he’s attempting to move past, because yes, he wants to wallow in his grief if it means never forgetting the boy he practically killed, but… 

 

It’s not healthy. 

 

He needs to move on. 

 

_ I’m sorry Yura. I need to continue my life.  _

 

_ I miss you though. _

 

_...I love you.  _

 

Taking a deep breath, Viktor shakes the thoughts off, giving Hiroko another small smile before making his way towards Yuuri’s room. 

 

He’s a bit nervous as to what he may face, to be honest. They didn’t part on good terms, and, well… 

 

_ That can change though.  _

 

_ God Viktor,  _ he can almost hear Yuri snort, his voice echoing through Viktor’s head,  _ so pathetic. You abandoned me to chase after Yuuri, and now that I’m gone, you chase me and abandon Yuuri.  Get your life together, old man.  _

 

The worst part is that it’s true. It’s true, and even now he feels the urge to turn around and walk away, because Yuuri doesn’t deserve him. He deserves the best, he deserves the world, and Viktor can’t give it to him. 

 

Viktor’s not good enough. 

 

He knocks at the door anyways. 

 

Yuuri answers with tired eyes, mixing with blunt confusion and slight shock.

 

“Viktor?” 

 

Viktor doesn’t let himself answer. Instead, he reaches out, tugging Yuuri into a hug. It’s desperate and needy and everything he’s been denying himself since that night. 

 

For a second, two seconds, maybe three, Yuuri just stands there awkwardly, not responding to Viktor’s sudden motion. Four seconds, and then arms wrap around his shoulders and back, and Yuuri’s head is pressing against his neck. 

 

“You came.” Is all that’s said, when Yuuri pulls away and gazes up at him with those soft brown eyes.

 

Viktor swallows, “I figured it was about time.”  _ I need to forget…  _ “I need to move on.”  _ I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.  _ “I’m sorry for fighting with you.”  _ I’m sorry for pushing you away, Yura.  _ “I’m sorry for not listening.” 

 

He might’ve said more, possibly, but then Yuuri’s pressing a finger against his lips, silently telling him to be quiet, “Shh. It’s alright, Viktor. I’ve already forgiven you.” He looks away for a second, eyes wistful, “...and I think he would too.” 

 

And maybe his eyes are starting to tear up, maybe there’s still this huge, gaping hole in his heart, a jagged wound that time will never heal… 

 

But also, maybe, he can learn to live with it. The grief. The guilt. The pain. All combined into one giant cloud looming over him. It doesn’t always have to rain though. The sun will come back out, and even if things won’t be alright, they will be okay. They will. 

 

_ Mila was right,  _ He thinks numbly, as Yuuri gently pulls him into the bedroom, already focused and determined in his mission to help Viktor move on,  _ this is what I needed.  _

 

_ Goodbye, Yura.  _

 

_ I’ll see you on the other side.  _


End file.
